The first night after the bomb, nobody
came for the animals. The sand cooled
into glass. We were assured radiation
was a painless death, that the goats slung
to sawhorses were patriots in their gun turrets,
on deck, swinging listlessly against
the walls of the mess hall. I have nothing
to do with science but bodily process,
this the least visible, most necessary.
A photograph of monkeys cowering
in their cage was titled Never Sailing
Again. There are broken parts in every system,
a clock missing a tooth on one gear,
shortening each second, a single screw
shaken loose to rattle inside the shell, irretrievable.
2 comments:
Sand/glass is easy, for lack of a better word. I'll probably kill the line.
Just saw your link now. My goodness. The only website I hit for this was the LIFE magazine collection of animal photos from Operation Crossroads.
I'm not done with this by any means, I think it has a ways to go, but it's good to know some of this is salvageable. :)
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